Pack Mentality
by Deathcomes4u
Summary: Movieverse AU: Prowl is born into slavery, and worse still, turned into the lowest form of slave at a young age. He knows nothing outside his role as a Wolf-Mech, until a visiting Ambassador decides he and his pack should have better. PxJ - Angst abounds
1. Prologue

_Welcome, new readers and those who are familiar with my work!_

_The plot bunny for this came up and bit me out of nowhere yesterday (I blame Laura not being online), and I just HAD to start it. In fact, I MUST credit where its due, the initial bunny was a direct result of reading GATEKAT's 'Trials of an Ambassador'. It's on FF. net, so go look for it!_

_Prowl as a Mechalycan however, is something I have been RPing for quite some time with Laura. Turning my favourite characters into werewolves is a recurring trait of mine XD  
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_Now, don't go thinking this means I won't be updating my other stories, I AM still working on those, but progress is slow cause of recurring Writers block. I have every intention of finishing them, even if I have to force myself. _

_This story is not planned as a particularly long one. 6 Chapters at most i'm thinking, and probably none of them reaching my usual 10,000 word standard. It's more of a size comparable to Legacy or Seekerbee._

_So the main instigating factor for this story was my desire to reverse the little trope of Noble!Prowl who falls in love with Slave!Jazz. I Wanted slave Prowl and Noble Jazz, but of course Prowl is never going to be a normal slave, and Jazz isn't really Towers material, so they aren't a standard switch._

_And a quick explanation of Mechalycancy as I'v developed it. _

_Lycan nanites change the base code in the mech, making all the nanites the bot then produces just like the infected ones, until eventually it alters the construct of the mech's frame and systems. New code is brought in and threaded into the processor from within._

_With the influence of magnetic fields created by the alignment of cybertron's two moons with the planet, the Mechalycancy is triggered, causing transformation into a huge, wolf alt mode with a lust for energon straight from another bot's systems. Processed, circulating energon is much richer in all kinds of alloy and mineral particles, hence it's appeal to the Mechalycan's instincts._

_As Wolf-HOUND mechs, the Mechalycan coding has been altered after it has settled, with suppressors and obedience codes. Slavery programming really. Only very few, very skilled mechs can alter the Lycan coding to create these Obedient, sentient wolf-mechs. They are simply another class of slave, low on the pecking order, like working dogs that double as pets of a sort._

_They are not considered real people with any rights, despite the fact they are easily as intelligent and have the same emotional subroutines as any Cybertronian._

_SO, here is a teaser Epilogue. It's tiny at only 990 words, but it should give you a taste of what you're in for.  
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><p>Prowl had trouble remembering what it was like when he was normal.<p>

His sparkling-hood had never been normal to begin with.

He had been sparked into slavery, and taken from his parents without them being able to do a thing.

At far too young an age, he'd had mature downloads and a battle computer installed. Learning to live with these at such an early stage in his development had been confusing and stressful. On top of this, his carers (and the term is used loosely) were unyielding to the fact he was young and emotionally undeveloped. They expected him to know his place and act like an adult.

Never mind that he and the other younglings had no idea how to do this, but they learnt, and learnt fast.

The only small mercy had been that he was raised among other sparklings given much the same treatment.

They had banded together, and that was the first Prowl knew of pack mentality. Stick together, get behind a strong leader and support each other, fill in the emotional gaps left bare by the caretakers.

The oldest sparklings were generally the leaders, but they would be taken away one by one, and eventually Prowl became the leader. He ended up that way for quite some time from what he could remember, and his leadership became his nature.

And then they had taken him too. Taken him to be infected.

From then on in, for about two or three vorns, his memories were mostly a haze of pain.

By the end of it, he was in his second frame.

He DID have an absolutely crystal clear memory of when they had him bitten.

It had been ludicrously sterile and efficient.

Hold the sparkling in restraints exposing the shoulder.

Force the viced jaws of the Mechalycan to penetrate the flimsy sparkling armour and break an energon line. Give the vice controlled jaws a few nano's sunk into the shoulder before winching open the vice and taking the Lycan away.

Lock the sparkling up to let the infected nanites spread and take over it's young frame.

Even once the infection had settled and Prowl was changed, right down to the fundamental base coding, that was not the end of his torture.

After he survived (and apparently, there was a 70 percent fatality rate in infected younglings, but he didn't find that out until much later), he was then subjected to the temperance process.

This involved the hacking of his code, changing of the Mechalycancy to exclude the deadliest, least controlled aspects.

It was the first step in crafting him into the perfect loyal, obedient, efficient wolf-hound mech that the nobility had become so very fond of owning.

After his infection and reprogramming, he was turned out with other surviving wolf-hound mechs to train in hunting and obedience.

Only after they had broken him and reshaped him into a prime example of his kind did they upgrade him into his third frame, allow it to be adjusted by his infection and coding, and put him up for sale.

The first mech to buy him was a second level noble named Quickgrip.

He was old and firm, but overall not as bad as some of the trainers Prowl had endured in the facilities.

Quickgrip honed him into life in the station of a lowly hunter.

Once he had a good feel for the requirements of his station and developed a temperament agreeable to his owner, he was upgraded into his final frame, and then bred with the alpha Mech-wolf, Sundance.

Prowl liked Sundance with an intensity he couldn't describe.

He hadn't a clue about the concept of 'love', and so didn't recognise it for what it was, but he was more than happy to bear his first litter to his alpha.

He was content to raise his pups, born as were-mechs because both their parents were infecteds.

After the pup's first frame upgrade, Prowl's content world collapsed around him.

Quickgrip needed credits rather badly. His estate was losing value with the decline in his primary investment- Tin mining.

Tin became cheaper and more readily available shipped from a new trade-partner planet.

To hold his position while he found a new asset to float his estate, Quickgrip sold all his salubrious possessions. This included his prized mech-wolf pack.

Quickgrip was more credit-shrewd than he was compassionate, and had no qualms whatsoever about separating his pack members to whoever would pay the highest for each specimen.

At the very least, he had to sell Prowl with his pups, but Sundance went to another estate in Simfur.

Prowl and his first offspring were bought by a very wealthy, very powerful upper class noble in Crystal city.

His name was Thunderwing, and Prowl's immediate impression was that his designation should be changed to Thunder-vocoder, since he seemed to like booming out his orders.

Lord Thunderwing was of high standing, with a military background and a lot of wealth.

His estate was large, but not large enough for his liking. Prowl also deduced that it would likely never be large enough for Thunderwing's liking. The arrogant noble would have taken all of Cybertron's lands as his if he were given the chance.

Thankfully, he was not. But the land he did own, and everything and everyone on it, was under the iron fist of his rule.

Prowl lived a hard life there, and was shaped into an absolutely exquisite example of his breed by Noble's standards.

This was because of Thunderwing's training methods. He did not threaten harm to Prowl if he should not obey or perform perfectly… he threatened his pups.

And Prowl did anything and everything to keep them from harm.

Prowl never complained. He wasn't ever under the impression he could, really. This was his lot in life. His place in society.

He was an alpha, and his duty to his pack was all that really mattered to him.


	2. Chapter 1

_OK, so our actual story starts. _

_As a piece of writing, I can't say this is great, but hopefully you'll get the idea of the atmosphere and shit. I feel like i'm over-using words a lot, but there's not many variants so it can't entirely be helped. My weirdly placed capitolisation is just plain derp, because I tend to write somewhat organically, which is bad of me *gives self smack on wrist*  
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_Also, In terms of the time measurements i'm using, i'm shit with maths so they're really rough OK?_

nanoklik- half a second

astrosecond- one and a half seconds

klik- roughly a minute

breem- 8 kliks

cycle- roughly an hour

orn- A day cycle

joor- 8 orns

decacycle- 4 joors

_and so far the rest is irrelevant so whatever._

_ALSO:_

_/blah/ - is comm. speak_

_~blah~ - is bond speak_

_Italics - thought  
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_Hope you enjoy despite my multitude of lazy writer shortcomings XD  
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><p>"Remind me why ah'm doin' this again? Ah can't stand this mech. I mean, you Crystal City nobles are a pain in the aft for even one cycle, let alone a whole decacycle. And don't get me started on the issues with negotiatin' anything' with you lot"<p>

"Oh, mute it before I set Hound on you Jazz." Mirage drawled with wry amusement and a lazy, sultry look at his company. "And don't think you're going to sweet talk me into showing you why you put up with Crystal City nobles right now. You know damn well I hate this mech as much as you do, but he's no reason to go slandering the rest of us perfectly respectable examples of the breed."

Jazz laughed and kicked back with a bored sigh on the plush bench of the transport unit.

"Hound wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone me. What's he gonna do, lick me to death? Tamest wolf-mech ah've ever met." He scratched the happily panting wolf-mode mech on the head, earning a happy rumble from him.

Mirage made a light noise of amusement. "He's one of the ONLY wolf-mechs you've met Jazz, and the rest are mine too. I've heard about and seen Thunderwing's pack for myself. They're unmatched in their class, champion Cyberwolf and Crankbear hunters. They are nothing like as lazy or disobedient as my lot."

At his masters words, Hound looked up with a slightly hurt wine and wide, bright blue optics.

Mirage rolled his optics and leant over to scritch his pack Alpha behind the ears, earning instant affection.

"Alright, so you aren't all that disobedient, but you ARE all lazy compared to Thunderwing's lot. Don't you go near them too soon Hound, they're honed weapons the lot of them. I don't want Thunderwing to have them attack you for his own amusement on sight."

The transport pulled up slowly to the gate of the brutish Noble's estate, sending an ID code to authorise entry. When the gate finally opened for them, the Transport swept through and smoothly up the long, winding path.

Jazz looked out the window at the rugged grounds within the high, re-enforced walls. It was more a fortress than a family mansion, and quite different to anything but the military bases in Iacon.

Actually it was nastily like the military bases, and the moment Jazz was inside the walls, he itched to get out again.

Mirage stayed his frazzled temperament with a cool, steady servo on his shoulder.

"It's only negotiations and an accommodating façade. Think of it as a chance to get in some role-play practice time. I know you like the whole 'be some mech you aren't and fool bots' thing. You can play this game in the name of better military co-operation between the city states, no problem."

The Blue visored ambassador nodded with a soft ex-vent.

"Still hate this place. Hate this mech. Wanna leave as soon as possible."

Mirage hummed in sympathy and soothingly rubbed his back as the transport pulled up finally at the front of the estate mansion.

It was a huge, stark and imposing building. All sharp, sloping angles with flourishes of black crystal carved to look like support pillars all the way along each level. The only really interesting and palatial feature were the ornately crystal set and creatively shaped windows spread uniformly between the shining black, slanted obsidian columns.

Waiting for them at the head of the stairs and looking as arrogant and imperious as ever, was Lord Thunderwing.

The Noble's bright Blue and Yellow paintjob stood out starkly against his mansion. It's handsomeness didn't suit his nature, but it's flashiness did. The excessive gold detailed badges on his arms and wing panels were also rather tacky, but unfortunately they were well earned.

Thunderwing was a ruthless air commander and a cunning strategist. He was not a mech to underestimate, or to piss off.

Jazz knew he'd be spending most of his time trying not to deliberately do the latter.

It was ridiculously easy to insult this lord. Unfortunately, that would be counter productive, and loyalty to Iacon and his Prime came first.

"Greetings, Ambassador Jazz and Lord Mirage! I trust your trip was agreeable?"

Thunderwing made rather overdone gestures of greeting as the two nobles ascended the front stairs to exchange formal introduction and accept his welcome.

Jazz used a considerable amount of control to not one-up the showy flier Lord with even more flamboyant hand gestures, and kept it to a simple servo across his chassis, inclination of the helm and slight bow. The classic international greeting. Mirage performed a gesture more Crystal City oriented, and let his gaze divert to the Wolf-Hound mechs lined up impeccably and standing at perfect attention in their quad alt modes.

The pack of 6 stared directly ahead, not twitching a single cable or even audial fin.

Thunderwing's training was even more rigid than he'd thought.

They stood three a side, lining the path on the balcony that lead inside.

"Come, let us dine together, and you can tell me of your recent exploits over evening fuel. I hope you don't mind, but I haven't received the special order energon I sent for an orn ago for your stay, so everything is jet orientated. You don't mind do you? It might give you quite the buzz. So hard to get decent couriers these days." Thunderwing rumbled flippantly as he led the way, the two visiting Nobles following with a shared glance of distaste, the wolf-mech pack filing in to bring up the rear.

Hound made sure to keep very close to his masters side. He hadn't missed the disdainful glance or derisive sneer from Lord Thunderwing in his direction. He also noticed the look of pure, innocent interest in him from what was obviously the youngest of the resident pack. He didn't dare give more than a curious glance back, noticing the Alpha flanking him on the left.

While he too was an Alpha, he was not on his own territory, and so must automatically yield to the other when appropriate.

In the company of his master, Thunderwing's Alpha would do nothing. On his own however, he would be treated however the Alpha deemed he should be, and he would have to fall in line.

To be fair though, Hound didn't assume the worst of the other wolf-mech. Despite the rigid stance and doubtless ordered flanking for intimidation, he didn't see any real malice in the other's optics.

Not that they were easy to read.

The Alpha didn't even look at him in fact.

/I've never seen another one of us like him! He looks… why does he move so… swingy?/

/His master is lenient. I used to walk like that. It's how you walk when you're not paying attention to keeping your conformation./ Inferno replied to Bumblebee's excited pack frequency comm.

Being the second eldest of the pack (Trailbreaker was the oldest), he'd had two previous owners to Thunderwing, and neither had been nearly as strict.

Behind him, Trailbreaker made a sub-sonic rumble of agreement.

/Mind you don't lose your concentration Bumblebee. Thunderwing won't tolerate us at anything than our best with guests./

Bumblebee chirped his understanding over the line and continued with his rigid and uniform posture as they flanked and followed the visitors per their master's orders.

Underneath the warning was the unspoken understanding that Bumblebee never wanted to do anything to cause Prowl harm.

Their Alpha was silent, trusting his pack to be on their best behaviour despite the excitement. After all, he was the one to receive punishment if any of them slipped up. It was a harsh, but effective means of control.

To be fair, what they were doing right now was far from difficult. Slipping up in basic formation would be shameful in front of another Alpha, even one as easygoing as the Green and gunmetal specimen Prowl was following.

His two progeny behind him were behaving themselves well, but he could feel them being exceptionally judgemental of Lord Mirage's Alpha through their creator/creation bond.

They had always been rowdier and cheekier than him. It was Sundance's influence.

Prowl sighed almost imperceptibly. He still missed Sundance, but he'd learnt to accept that he had to move on.

He would not always be able to stay with the ones he cared about, that was how the world worked for his kind.

He cared, and he showed his affection, but he had to be prepared to be separated.

Not that Thunderwing would get rid of him or any of his pack any time soon. They were too good. Too effective a team. Too valuable.

Prowl made sure to keep them that way, because so long as they were an effective pack, they would be kept together.

His greatest joy was being able to remain with his pups. He didn't like thinking about life without them.

The other three members of his pack may as well have been family too, and he knew it in the depths of his spark.

Inferno and Trailbreaker were his secret rocks of stability, and Bumblebee was an absolute joy after what Thunderwing had done with his…

But the master had done what was his right to do.

A part of Prowl's spark, deep down, knew he had absolutely NO right to do it, but again… this was his lot in life, he was fit for nothing else, so he would make the best of it, and they were ALL grateful for Bumblebee.

However, the young mech was still in his third frame, and even HE had not been perfect at that age. He had been lucky to have Quickgrip, understanding of the exuberance and instincts a young wolf-mech had to deal with.

Thunderwing didn't care. You either did what you were told, or you were disciplined.

Prowl fought a shiver.

Even when they did nothing wrong, Thunderwing felt the need to assert himself over his Alpha. Part of his programming accepted this.

Another part of him… the more mech part, could not condone it. But for the sake of his pack, he would do anything, so he complied, and he did not complain or resist.

/Hey, carrier?/

/Yes Sideswipe?/

/Why does the ambassador keep looking at you?/

Prowl, at his red son's question, shifted his optics from their unfocused gaze ahead, up to meet the visor that turned to look at him.

He held the mech's gaze unflinchingly, and the noble did not look away, looking amusingly like a petrodeer caught in headlights.

Eventually, the white and black mech looked away, and Prowl used the opportunity to look the bot up and down without turning his helm.

/Curiosity I think. If I heard right, he is from Iacon. They do not keep our kind there./

/He's kind of attractive/ Sunstreaker made a slight gust of air to note his appreciation.

/Ha, looking a bit above your station there aren't you bro?/

/I'm the one other nobles keep offering millions of credits to buy, loser/

/Both of you concentrate. He will not be buying anyone if he is from Iacon. Lord Mirage is more likely to try that, but our training, as far as I can tell, is not to his liking, so focus on your job./

Both of the twins made apologetic chirps of assent to their carrier.

The internal dialogue from the rest of the pack did not at all affect their outward appearance or movements, even though Prowl was aware of Inferno and Trailbreaker having a joking conversation about which of them was a better candidate for getting sparked by the visiting Alpha at Lord Mirage's side.

Prowl had no problem with their desire to be covered by another Alpha. He knew though, and was aware they also knew, that any pups they had would simply be sold by Thunderwing.

He already knew that kind of pain.

He didn't want to let any others of his pack go through that. He wasn't so worried though… if anyone was to be sparked, it was him.

And even then, given the shown temperament and lazy gait of the other wolf-mech, it was unlikely Thunderwing would think him good enough to be a sparker.

He may end up having Prowl spark Mirage's Alpha.

Prowl had no real qualms about this. It would not be the first litter he'd sired. And given how… content the mech-wolf seemed, he felt that any pups would be well housed.

The question then really, was whether Lord Mirage would be willing to pay the price for Prowl's good spark-constitution to be bred into his pack.

As They reached the dining hall, the pack moved to settle in formation, sitting rigid behind Thunderwing's seat at the head of the table, unflinching and paying no attention to the servants that flitted in and out, offering the visitors their chairs, bringing out trays of decadent energon jellies and petit cubes and confections.

They did not get any such fuel. Nor would they get fuel for another cycle or so until they were excused by their master. Until then, they had to sit in formation at perfect attention.

This would not be expected of any of the servants. If servants weren't doing their duties, they moved out of sight to do whatever they needed to.

Unfortunately for Prowl, he had to keep his two progeny in check, AND Bumblebee, who had the most trouble remaining in formation for long periods.

Appearance and control were everything to Thunderwing. Any break in their orders was a slight on his Master's perfectly manicured façade, and Thunderwing did not tolerate this.

Prowl did not blame Bumblebee for the punishments he caused him to endure. Bumblebee couldn't help himself.

It was Master's problem, really, and Prowl did his duty and sucked it up.

He could cope, but only because he had Inferno and Trailbreaker to help.

As they sat and the dinner proceeded well into the evening, Prowl became aware that the Iaconian ambassador was staring at him again.

He tuned into the conversation, admitting to himself that he was as curious about the newcomers as they seemed to be of him.

"So, how exactly did you acquire your hunting pack?"

Jazz asked amicably, noting that his question had the desired effect.

Thunderwing swelled with arrogant pride, glancing around at his perfectly ordered wolf-mechs.

"Ah, yes, you don't really follow the hunting culture up in the lofty levels of Iacon, hmmm? Such a shame you do not have the sweeping wilderness to roam or train wolf-mechs in. My pack is servo picked. I bought only the best and finest. Cybertronian wide champions in their class, I dare any Noble to claim they have a better Hunting party than mine. Of course, much of their success is down to exceptional training. It's all in the discipline. A well disciplined Alpha makes for an ordered pack. Of course… they have their flaws. The exuberance of youth sometimes clouds the pup's processor, but he is the finest tracker around. And a fast learner. He was ONCE similar to your specimen there…"

The winged Lord gave an imperious, sneering smile and gesture to Hound, who sat beside Mirage's chair, accepting little confections being snuck to him.

He pricked his audials, poking his optics just above the table level before sinking back in a slightly wary, submissive move.

Mirage petted his wolf-mech's head and turned a cool, gracious expression on the Lord whom he couldn't stand.

"Ah, well, I'm not quite as competitive with my pack. They are companion pets rather than working bots, they enjoy the recreational hunts much the way I do. In competition, I prefer to pit my own training against others, rather than channel it into hounds."

He smiled beatifically, noting with internal amusement how Thunderwing picked up on the very veiled slight.

Thunderwing's smile became tight, and he turned his attention back to Jazz.

"Ambassador Jazz, do you indulge in any competitive ventures yourself?"

"Well, let me see… I do enjoy a good race when ah can, but it's difficult to find the time with my work. My main interest lies in music. Playing, listening, composing… Ah guess you could say I have battles on the stage sometimes, but those are more collaborations than true competitions. It's all in fun."

"Ah, well, to each his own. Have you ever witnessed a high hunt? It is a most exhilarating sport." Thunderwing fairly crooned, and Prowl could tell there was energon-lust in his tone.

It rather disgusted him, but he made no motion to indicate so.

"Well, ah can't say I'm much for the huntin' and killin' of non-sentient ani-bots for sport, but to each his own, as you say. Ah understand the appeal of the hunt, and the working with a team to achieve a goal. Soooo, your hounds got names?" Jazz tilted his helm with a disarming smile.

There was a reason he was an ambassador. Despite his thick accent, he was a very cunning conversationalist, and a master of manipulating words to drive a mood.

At the same time, he could surreptitiously indulge in his own curiosities.

When he looked at the Alpha wolf-mech again, he was met with the piercing stare he'd encountered in the hall.

Jazz recognised intelligence when he saw it. Even in animal form (and he knew they had bipedal mech forms, but according to Mirage, it was impolite to allow wolf-mechs to be seen in anything but quad forms when company was around.), it was clear to Jazz that he was not looking at some drone, as their posture and movements might suggest.

Thunderwing called his Alpha forward with a gesture, and rather unconventionally motioned him to stand on the table.

Prowl did not hesitate, and when he vaulted up onto the surface, his paws did not touch or disturb a single plate as he stood in display conformation… the perfect example of his breed.

Thunderwing stood, grinning wide and looking rather lethal himself. He spread his arms to emphasise the huge wolf's size… despite the fact Inferno and Trailbreaker were both bigger.

He clapped Prowl on the back, the wolf-mech unflinching, back unyielding to the firm hits.

His plating tingled unpleasantly where his master settled his servo on his back.

"This here is Prowl. Finest, most obedient, loyal, intelligent wolf-hound you'll ever meet. Got a real killer instinct this one. Knew it the first time I looked him in the optic when old Quickgrip was selling everything off like a street merchant. Snapped him and his litter up for a pittance, best bargain I've ever gotten! Those two over there…"

He gestured behind him vaguely to the right, where Sunstreaker and Sideswipe sat rigidly, the only change in their posture being a raising of their hackles.

"They're his first. Sunstreaker, that fine gold specimen, and Sideswipe, as clever a hunter as his carrier here. Sideswipe is fast too, once won a petrorabbit bagging contest with just him, 36 in one cycle! Absolutely unmatched. Over there, we have Inferno, the big red one, and Trailbreaker, the black. They're my heavies. Those two can take down the biggest, meanest Crankbears and Cyberwolves you can find, and they barely have to snap their jaws. And the little yellow one there, that's Bumblebee. Got him to replace old Armourhide when a Crankbear crushed his spark case. Nasty accident that. He's not in his final upgrade yet, but so far he's proving an exceptional scout. Got the best olfactory unit on him that I've ever come across… second only to your Alpha there. I've heard all about what he can do tracking. They would certainly make a good pairing once Bumblebee is in his final frame."

Mirage looked appraisingly over at the young wolf-mech, who seemed to shift imperceptibly under his gaze, uncomfortable but fighting the urge to show it.

"I would love to see him in action. Do you not think our Alphas would make a better match though? Any pups from that littler would have an exceptional mix of traits. Plus, they are both of age. A covering could be done while we are here."

Thunderwing gave him an oily kind of smile.

"Ah, quite true. Although, we'd have to hope they only acquired Hound's tracking skills, rather than his temperament."

Mirage raised his orbital ridges and his expression became a little colder, voice loftier.

"Oh? What fault do you see in Hound's temperament?"

Thunderwing sneered slightly.

"Well, he is not the most disciplined of Wolf-mechs. I would not go as far as to imply that is your fault, by any means, but if it is not a training fault, then it is a temperament trait."

Mirage gave a titter and a piercing gaze towards the Lord.

"I can assure you, he has no temperament fault. My training methods differ to yours. If Hound were to be sparked, the pups training would not be your problem anyway."

"True, but it would reflect on my Alpha's flawless breeding record. However, I do not truly believe the union would produce bad offspring. If you have the credits you are willing to part with for it, then you may have Prowl cover your Alpha."

"We can negotiate such matters later, I'm sure, but thankyou. I think Hound would enjoy carrying again, especially to such a strong specimen. It would be best to allow them to mingle a little and become accustomed to one another before breeding, in any case." the Towers mech said, calm voice not belying how wary he was of Thunderwing and what he might let his pack do to Hound if he left him alone with them.

"So, do they talk or anything'? I know it's not polite to guests to allow 'em to change to bipedal mode in our presence, but ahm jus' curious." Jazz's tone was genuine in his question, his gaze not leaving Prowl, the wolf-mech holding his optics the whole time.

It wasn't so much defiance as an acknowledgement of his intense scrutiny.

Prowl was also trying to read Jazz's expression. It was hard with that visor. He knew very few mechs who wore them. It was not the fashion amoung most Lords or Nobles. At least, none of the ones Thunderwing mingled with.

"Oh, they have voices, and they CAN talk to a degree, but it is not encouraged. It's useful for them to tell me directly what they see or do, or show understanding of a command. Beyond this, I do not allow them to voice opinions, or make statements or arguments. Such behaviour is above their station, and unnecessary in their role. They speak among themselves, but not very much. Really, as smart as they are, they do not have much to say. It's all in the body language."

The lord flexed his wings, making a gesture which Prowl read, breaking optic contact with Jazz as he leapt lightly and nimbly from the table, still not disturbing a single plate on it's surface.

A few more gestures from Thunderwing that looked like no more than ordinary movements, and the other Wolf-mechs got to their pedes and began to trot out of the hall in an orderly fashion. Prowl stayed by Thunderwing's side.

The Lord gave his guests an indulgent smirk. "They are tuned into my every movement, and read the subtle signs that tell them what I want them to do. To have to use words would make them an inefficient and inattentive team. However, I think it's time we retire for some high grade. Lord Mirage, would you care to allow Prowl here to show your Alpha to his temporary lodgings in the pack housing area?"

Mirage gave him a slightly wary look, a servo resting on Hound's head, the wolf-mech unmoving, but glancing over at the other Alpha unsurely.

"Do not worry, Prowl is a civilised wolf, he will take good care of his guest, as will the rest of his pack. You needn't fear for his safety. There is NO infighting amoung my charges."

Thunderwing rumbled placatingly, with an edge that suggested refusal or argument would be a severe insult to him.

Mirage gave in with a nod to Hound, the Wolf-mech tapping his nose against his master's hip before moving to Prowl's side.

Prowl glanced at his new charge before taking his cue from his master and leading the way out at a brisk trot.

"Now, if you'll follow me, gentlemechs. I have chosen some fine vintages for our enjoyment, and there are magnesium cygars if you'd care for one."

Thunderwing swept towards a large set of doors that were opened by a pair of unseen servants. Mirage and Jazz rose to follow, Jazz glancing back at the retreating Alpha Wolves.

It seemed Prowl _sensed_ his optics somehow, and stopped, pausing to look around, catching his gaze with what Jazz could only describe as… a look of curiosity to match his own.

Hound stopped beside the other Alpha and glanced between them, but in three astroseconds, the moment was over, and Prowl carried on as if he had never stopped.

Jazz decided he wanted to know a whole lot more about that pack. He knew a sub-culture when he saw one. And it had him burning to learn all he could about it.

And about those curiously intelligent optics.


	3. Chapter 2

_See, i still work on shit, just really slowly._

_You probably thought I forgot about this fic. Nope. Just needed to be in the right mood to write it._

_Also, I must make a note. Sorry if random words near the end are missing R's or N's. My Laptops's keyboard is currently dying. The R key is the worst. It's not making writing any easier (actually its really slowing me the fuck down) so I appologise for that too. I have a new keyboard, I just have to learn how to fit it._

_Also, many thanks and a fair bit of credit goes to ~Zomgitsalaura, since she RP'd basically the whole storyline of this with me, and I've ended up using her characterisation and background canon for Jazz.  
><em>

_Anyway, hope you enjoy._

_~Death Out._

* * *

><p>Hound was silent and kept up with the other Alpha at a respectable distance.<p>

The silence grew longer and more unnerving as they entered a service passage and travelled down into the lower levels of the mansion through hallways barely big enough for them.

In these tight spaces however, Hound noted that Prowl lost his rigid posture and moved with a much more fluid, graceful gait.

Naturally, travelling behind the other wolf-mech, he filled his olfactory unit with his smell so that he could catalogue the scent identity. As well as this, because of his enhanced olfactory capabilities, he could tell much more. How ready to mate the other was, how healthy they were, what minerals they required supplements of, if they required fresh joint oiling, how long ago they were cleaned, etc…

He was impressed by the fact Prowl was impeccably maintained. Well lubricated, trace element levels all optimum, armour spotless and gleaming, and ready to mate at any time the fancy so took him, or the order was given. If only his nose could read the bot's personality levels… so far he had very little to go on, and it made him a little nervous.

Just when he was beginning to think they must live in the deepest, darkest bowels of this mansion, he got a ping on his comm frequency from… Prowl?

He opened the channel curiously, audials flickering in uncertainty.

/We're nearly at the den. I apologise for my silence and cold manner with you, I was trying to scan for your frequency. As well as this, Master does not like us to vocalise outside of the Den, even in the service ways./

/Oh! Oh, that's quite alright… thankyou, um, I mean-/

Prowl glanced back at the green alpha, and the first flicker of personality shone through that Hound had seen, in the form of an amused little smile.

/Relax, you are very welcome here. It is not often we get visitors. I warn you, my progeny and Bumblebee can be rather excitable things. They will probably smother you with attention the moment we arrive. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are likely to go right ahead and offer interface as well. I have no problems with you accepting their offers if you wish./

/Whoa… pretty forward huh? Sounds like Tracks when he's in the mood/ Hound chuckled over the line, relaxing visibly as he adjusted to the revelation of Prowl's kind nature.

/I thank you greatly for your hospitality. Is your master always so… strict? Or was that all just a welcoming show?/

/No, that's pretty much him. He has very strict ideas about the image he projects, and we are part of that image, so we must conform./ Prowl replied mildly, turning into a wider, pipe lined corridor where they could easily walk side by side.

/What… what does he do if you don't conform?/ Hound asked hesitantly. Surely the repercussions couldn't be all that harsh? Mirage never did anything worse than make him sleep alone outside if he did something bad. Hound did not really have any concept of a truly cruel master.

/You need not worry. As you are not his, he will not punish you for anything you do. Please be mindful of Bumblebee though. He is impressionable, and Master won't tolerate him picking up outside mannerisms/ Prowl said dodgingly, but his tone was perfectly pleasant.

Hound did not press. Clearly, it was not too bad if he didn't think it worth mentioning.

Prowl stopped and pressed a button beside a large door with his paw. A small laser swept his frame, and he pinged it an order to recognise Hound as 'guest', authorising him to come and go as he pleased.

The laser scanned Hound briefly, and then the door hissed open.

The moment it did, they were hit with the sounds of boisterous bots and wolves.

"Hey Prowl, he's given us the good stuff tonight!" Inferno called out happily to his alpha as he strode through the door and changed into his bipedal form, Hound following suit.

The green, stocky alpha thought he may have struck it absolutely lucky when he saw Prowl in mech form.

A prime specimen indeed, Thunderwing hadn't actually been exaggerating.

Prowl gave even Tracks a run for his money, albeit in a more understated way.

What had been long metal hackles in wolf form had become sweeping sensor wings, His broad chest was bright red barred with silver and accented with gold.

A round white helm framed a handsome silver faceplate, topped with a striking, authoritative red chevron.

Hound felt like he should offer himself for sparking right then and there, but he was distracted by two red and gold blurs who bounded over and circled him in a slightly predatory way, still in wolf form.

Hound may not be on his own territory, but he was still an alpha, and he did not flinch, or show any sign of intimidation.

"Sun, Sides, behave. Let him refuel first. Please Hound, feel free to come and make yourself comfortable, I'll get you a cube.

Hound nodded his thanks and moved to sit beside Inferno.

While Prowl went over to the dispenser, scratching Bumblebee in his mech form on the helm as he passed, the red and gold blurs did not cease their rambunctious activity.

Hound couldn't help but actually laugh when Sideswipe (was that the red one? Yea, it must have been, it suited him more) came over and assumed the position for mounting right in front of him, tail cocked to the side even though his valve cover was closed.

"Okay, I take it back Prowl. They're worse than Tracks." he chuckled, watching as Sunstreaker shoved his brother out of the way and assumed the same position.

Prowl stepped over the tussling bots easily as he returned, handing Hound a cube.

"I hope our fuel is to your liking. It's somewhat bland, but it has all the necessities to keep us in top condition. He's given us the flavoured kind tonight though, which is usually just whatever he's ordered for himself that he doesn't fancy, and he adds it to ours." Prowl's mannerisms were much milder than the green mech had expected, but he was not blind to the other alpha's subtle appraisal of his form.

He seemed to approve, settling on Hound's other side.

The walls of the room were lined with slightly cushioning material. Woven metal filled with aluminium shavings. The softest filling you could use outside of gels. It was not as high standard as Hound had expected (ALL Mirage's cushioning was gel or silicone), but it was not uncomfortable at all.

He sipped and watched with amusement as the brothers rolled around on the floor in a mock fight for mating rights.

Hound noted after a little while and some relaxed scans of the room, that it was in fact only ONE room.

There were no separate compartments for recharge or washing.

The wash rack was set in an alcove in the corner on the right of the door and had only three spigots. There was a concentrated pile of large cushions in the corner opposite the showers and the dispenser was situated between the two areas inset in the wall.

"So… This is your common area right? You have other private rooms somewhere to recharge?"

Trailbreaker, who was lounging on the cushions in wolf form and grooming a purring Bumblebee lying beside him, made a sort of chuckling sound.

/This is it. Communal everything. We fuel, recharge, wash and interface together./

Hound tried to hide how taken aback by the idea he was, but it wasn't easy, and another sound of amusement from the large black wolf-mech told him his surprise had been spotted.

"We are used to this way of living. We are a very close pack. I understand those with owners less focused on their pack's statistics and competitive ability tend to… provide greater amenities. To be honest, I'm not sure we'd be able to use more rooms if we had them, we're accustomed to close quarters, it feels… comfortable." Prowl explained.

Hound didn't find himself able to fully grasp the concept of being OK with having NO privacy from one's pack members, but then he was well aware of the differences between his master and Thunderwing.

"Well, I guess you like a break every now and then though, right? Get to sleep in the masters quarters now and then dontcha?"

The green mech knew instantly that he'd said something wrong. The tension that his question left in the air could have been cut with a claw tip.

There were glances shared between Inferno and Trailbreaker, and the younger pack members went quiet. Prowl himself went stony, but did not look angry.

"Sometimes." was all he said.

"Master is a loud recharger. Carrier never actually gets into stasis around him, his sensors can't power down around him." Sideswipe piped up, having changed into root mode while tousling with his brother.

The statement, while sounding to Hound like one huge-aft evasion of the truth, nevertheless cut through the tension effectively, and Prowl made a noise of assent, sipping from his cube.

"So Alpha. Are we gonna give our visitor a proper welcome once he's finished his cube?" Inferno asked with a cheeky glint to his optic.

It was interesting to the green mech to note the perk of Prowl's winglets and complete shift in his demeanour when Inferno initiated the idea of this 'proper welcome'.

"If Hound is so inclined to our brand of hospitality, I don't see why not."

Hound did not even realise his tail was up and wagging, but he finished his cube off in one big gulp eagerly (and he wasn't sure what 'flavour' the other wolf-mechs were talking about, because it was as bland as slag to his sensors, and he hated to think what their NORMAL energon was like).

"Is there a tradition here I should observe? Cause I like traditions." He said with a grin as Inferno took his empty cube and sat it out of the way.

"Only the usual fragging from the resident alpha." Snickered Sunstreaker, who seemed to be settling in on the floor, also now in mech mode and apparently expecting a good show.

"Oh good, I like that one. What's the preferred position?" the green bot asked cheerily, shivering slightly when Prowl pet his shoulder in initiation of pleasurable contact, allowing him to reach out and stroke his fingers curiously down the enticing red chest plates.

"However you feel most comfortable" Prowl purred in his most alluring tone.

Hound shivered just from the dulcet tones of implication that laced the mild voice.

True to his designation, Hound preferred the iconic pose of the anibot breed they were spliced with.

Prowl gave a growling purr of approval, quite happy to take up the dominant pose in wolf or mech mode.

He mock mounted the green alpha and ground their codpieces lightly together, servos travelling up and down Hound's back, drawing shivers and whimpers of delight from him.

The green mech let out a low moan and arched into the floor when Prowl mouthed and nipped the back of his neck cables.

He snicked open his valve cover eagerly, keeping his spike sheathed until he was given permission to let it out. Assuming he would, because then again, he knew some alphas preferred the dominated partner to keep their cable locked down.

Prowl did not seem to be one of those mechs, as he slid a servo around Hound's hips and stroked at the panelling covering his spike housing.

Obligingly, Hound opened it, gasping when he heard the click of the other alpha's equipment being exposed.

He rocked into the mech above him as he felt a spike pressurising along the front of his pelvic gimble. His own cord didn't take much coaxing to come free and extend, especially with such gentle, talented claws teasing at it's tip and length.

Hound moaned again, answered with a deep, sensor tingling rumble from Prowl into his back-plating as their spikes rubbed together.

The servo playing with his cable dipped lower to test his valve.

Lubricant already trailed in a thin line from the opening, but Prowl teased a digit in gently anyway, receiving a whimper of pleasure.

Nuzzling Hound's neck plating, he thrust the digit a few times into the clenching but suitably sized port, adding another and scissoring a little just to get the mech beneath him to squirm some more.

He did so love making his partners writhe and pant before he even entered them.

Given he didn't get new partners for pure pleasure often, he was rather more impatient than normal, and withdrew the digits, licking them clean.

Prowl rocked gently as he did so, rubbing their pressurised cables against one another for the light charge and the little mewls of pleasure it coaxed out.

When he was done though, he slid the servo back around the shapely, dark green hip-plating and grasped the base of Hound's spike.

He lined up and slid himself slowly into the hot, slick port.

Prowl moaned with Hound as he seated himself fully and ground his hips a little, waiting for the slightly-too-tight valve to adjust.

Lapping at the other Alpha's neck and between his shoulders where the hackles transformed out from, he stroked Hound's spike languidly, the other mech whining and panting needily from the stimulation.

Once satisfied he wouldn't hurt anything, Prowl drew back and thrust swiftly, revving hard at the choked off cry of pleasure he received.

He could hear the purrs and revs of the rest of his pack. He may have been rather small for an Alpha, but one of the things that kept his place as pack leader was his unparalleled interfacing abilities.

He had the greatest stamina when it came to holding off or receiving overloads, his control was, at times, epic, and his technique was something else all together.

Inferno and Trailbreaker never felt cause to challenge him. His twins regarded him as their chief role-model and tutor. And Bumblebee… well, he was too young to be either contender or student, so he just enjoyed the sight of his Alpha and adopted sire figure showing off his abilities.

Hound was discovering those abilities for himself as he arched and whined and panted, wanting more and feeling unable to handle it at the same time.

The only other mech who had ever reduced him to such a wanton state had been his master, and really… he could not compare his master to one of his own kind (for one, their customs and systems were quite different), but of all those of his own kind he'd fragged, he couldn't remember any who'd done this without being twice Prowl's girth in the spike.

And they'd been a fair bit less accommodating with their touches.

Prowl's servos were like mercury… they slid across his plating and spike with heavy, gentle strokes, alighting sensors while causing only pleasure, mouth hot and sure over his neck-cables, satisfying every need in his wolfish programming, and then some.

He gasped and panted as the pace picked up, the resident Alpha's spike fairly working his valve over, hitting at a slightly different angle every time, triggering every sensor in turn.

It felt positively glorious when sharp denta bit into the back of his neck in a firm hold, nearly but not-quite piercing the fine micro-mesh armour.

Hound spread his knees a little for balance as hips pistoned against his own, building heat, friction and charge. His own lubricant made the sort of wet sounds that sent shivers of lust through his systems, and he whined loudly as he neared climax.

Prowl held off for as long as he could, systems humming with charge as his engine roared.

He grasped firmly around the base of Hound's spike and squeezed in time with his thrusts, until finally, he felt the buzz of his charge threaten to burst it's banks.

Prowl plunged his spike deep and magnetised, connecting with the other alpha as he felt the action trip Hound's overload.

He went with him, moaning around the neck plating as he felt his spike release his charge, filling his partner with his transfluid. The base of his cord swelled, knot forming to lock him in place, feeling Hound's spike do the same in his servo.  
>He rocked against the other alpha, using the friction to prolong the blissful haze of charge release, Hound's howl petering out into low, satisfied moans.<br>Massaging the base of the swollen knot in his servo, Prowl purred and lapped at the spot he'd bitten, leaving it for the other bot's nanites to fix.

A needy whine from his left had Hound rolling his helm to see both the twins pawing at each other, spikes out and pressurised.  
>A rumble above him seemed to be the signal they were waiting for from their carrier, and with wicked grins, they descended upon the green Alpha's pinned form.<p>

Hound gasped and moaned as Sunstreaker slipped beneath him and wrapped his mouth around the tip of his spike.

Sideswipe came to his front and licked his lips playfully.

The green mech revved and pulled him in for a proper kiss, groaning as Prowl rocked against him gently, renewing his charge.

He couldn't quite believe the other Alpha was ready to go again so soon… but slag he wasn't complaining. Not many wolves could get off another overload while still knotted inside their partner, but the way the mech above him was moving, Hound didn't doubt he was capable of it.

* * *

><p>"Well well, someone looks like they had fun with the meet and greet, at least"<p>

Mirage's soft chuckle sent pleasant shivers through Hound's hackles as he slunk into his master's room.

The accommodations were Spartan compared to the showy grandeur of the rest of the palatial mansion, but the berth was large and looked comfortable.

Mirage patted it to beckon him up.

All too familiar with the private side of his noble owner, Hound transformed up and sprawled beside the white and blue mech smirking knowingly at him.

Refined servos ran over his reclined frame, tracing the paint scuffs that a quick wash had failed to remove.

Hound purred, knowing Mirage never begrudged him indulging in amicable welcoming rituals with his own kind. In fact he liked to watch when he was allowed to. His own pack was never shy about performing for him.

"Mmmmm so how were they? By the look on your faceplate and the way your tail is wagging, I'm guessing their steel façade hid soft sparks."

Hound grinned goofily and nodded, mirring contentedly as he let the noble's deep vocals slide across his body like warm oil.

"The alpha, Prowl… well, he's… I mean… heh, I'm a little sore actually."

Mirage gave him a high optical ridge look of surprise. "Surely he's not packing THAT big of a girth?"

Hound chuckled, noting Mirage's engine hum in response to the sound.

"No, no he was average for his size, he was just… _voracious…_ but in the best way. You wouldn't _believe _what he can do, while knotted! Ooooo he managed to pull out and hammer me with it before the third overload. No wolf I know his size can push their knot in and out like that. It stretched in the BEST way."

Mirage shivered in arousal as his imagination supplied him with an image of his alpha howling in pleasure as he was stuffed with the thickened base of a spike over and over.

He rubbed the back of Hound's neck cabling, feeling the marks of denta. It didn't bother him when Hound came back marked by other wolf-mechs.

They had been more than just master and pet for a long time now, albeit behind closed doors.

Mirage was well aware Hound was completely and utterly loyal to him. The noble himself was a liberal spark entrapped in a strict social structure he chaffed against, no matter how perfectly he played the part.

Outside of the public arena, he had somehow fallen for the bot he was supposed to call servant. If the way of their world was different, Mirage fantasised, he'd be free to love whom he whished, and display it as he desired.

As things stood, he'd be disgraced for claiming such affection for Hound openly.

And as much as he loved him, he respected his need to socialise the way his kind were programmed to.

He was always grateful that the programming included a simplistic sort of relationship measure.

Alphas were loyal to their masters. They were even more loyal to their mates, and mate was a much more preferable status, since the alpha would not only obey, but dote upon their lover.

In turn, Mirage had proven a very doting 'mate' himself, which sealed the bond.

Hound had flat out told him, when Mirage had first quizzed him on the ways of his wolf-mech culture, that he ranked him 'mate' in his mind.

The noble hadn't had much of a problem adapting to and accepting the status.

On top of Hound's beautiful temperament, charming personality and deep processor, Mirage had to admit he didn't think he could ever go back to interfacing with regular mechs.

It was like another level with his alpha. Quite apart from the unparalleled satisfaction he got from being knotted, Hound was the most considerate lover he'd ever had.

When they joined, the green mech never failed to make it clear to Mirage why he considered him 'mate' and not just master.

The tenderness and affection bled between them from their sparks, assuring both of the rightness of their coupling, despite whatever society decreed about the imbalance of their worth.

The blue and white lord didn't put much stock in wealth being the measure of a mech's worth.

He prized the kindness of a spark above everything else, and there was none kinder than Hound.

He traced his alpha's armour with reverent strokes, feeling the marks of his encounter with the local pack.

He gave a mock pout. "You've still got something in the tank, I hope. Thunderwing bored me so much, all I could think of was what I'd do to you when I finally got you to myself again."

Hound rumbled, the sound one of interest.

"Always got something left for you 'Raj." He rolled onto his side and nuzzled his mate.

"Mmmm good, because as fun as the residents are, I want to make sure they know you're mine" Mirage murmured, grinning.

The articulated tail wagged with renewed vigour, Hound lifting his helm to lick his master's lip-plates, requesting a kiss.

Mirage dragged him into a deep one without hesitation, servos sliding over his alpha's plating with more purpose now, tweaking sensitive wires and pressing nodes.

One cupped the scuffed black codpiece, which slid away without resistance, Hound's still very warm spike sliding eagerly into Mirage's grasp.

It didn't take them long to get down to business, Mirage taking up position beneath Hound, loving the feel of the powerful alpha above him, taking him, a posture of claiming that worked both ways with them. Hound would treat his master as if he were the one being taken, even when he was on top.

The noble gasped and groaned, relaxing and arching into the press of the thick spike filling his valve.

Callipers adjusted to the familiar girth, but when Hound began thrusting they spasmed from the delicious feed it delivered to his nodes.

Mirage writhed, Hound pinning him the way he knew he loved, kissing and licking at the kibble on his back.

Strong but gentle servos gripped blue hips firmly, working claws into delicate seams and teasing at wires with utmost care.

They both climaxed quickly, unable and unwilling to hold back their overloads.  
>Mirage screamed around his clenched fist, not wanting to test the thickness of the walls in the strange place but unable to silence himself when Hound's knot pressed against every node it touched, making for a long, lingering overload.<p>

* * *

><p>"PROWL. LEFT, SPEARHEAD!"<p>

The alpha did exactly as directed, sending out a series of short pings across the pack comm to co-ordinate the others.

They moved with unyielding precision, path directed by degrees, Thunderwing lazily swooping overhead to watch and bark orders.

The Petro-deer ran for their lives, typical herd mentality protocols directing them to take whatever route looked the fastest and clearest of predators.

Prowl got ahead of the rest of his pack, flanked by Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.

Inferno, Trailbreaker and Bumblebee drove the deer in a tight group towards the ambush point.

Prowl and the twins bedded in, Thunderwing watching with lazy anticipation.

His guests sat in the observation tower, watching the display with muted interest.

Mirage had seen enough hunts to not find a single tactic surprising, but the sheer precision of the pack, and the steel grip that the flier had on his wolf-mechs had not fully impressed him until this moment.

His own wolves were good, in their own way. When he hunted with them though, he trusted them to think for themselves and take initiative.

Thunderwing only allowed initiative out of Prowl, and half of his barked orders were manoeuvres the alpha was already carrying out.

If any of the others seemingly strayed, the jet was swift to verbally lash them back into place simply by calling their name and calling a single word command.

The speed with which they complied was what astounded Mirage.

His pack listened to him, but they got distracted, or responded at their own pace. And Mirage gave them the leeway to do so.

Thunderwing did not tolerate even a claw out of his control.

Jazz watched with undisguised fascination.

He had never seen a hunt before, let alone participated like Mirage had. His initial interpretation of Thunderwing's methods was that it was all militaristic.

This made sense to him, given the jet was a commander after all. But… the mechs he was commanding were not soldiers. They were pets.

Jazz hadn't realised that the only distinction Thunderwing made between the two was that Wolf-mechs _belonged _to him and had less rights.

Jazz found himself leaning forward against the glasteel as the ambush was sprung upon the petro-deer.

The sheer power and speed of Prowl and his twins as they attacked was astounding.

The silver and white mech was hypnotised by the sight, like a crash he couldn't look away from, attention riveted by some kind of morbid fascination.

Three bucks were down, two taken out by the twins, another crippled and now pinned under Inferno's bulk, which he'd snared as the herd scattered.

Prowl's target, the largest petro-deer, had managed to dodge his attack, and now the alpha was chasing him down.

Jazz thought nothing of this, but when he heard the snarl in Thunderwing's voice as he barked more orders, he realised Prowl seemed to have done something that displeased him.

The alpha responded by pushing himself harder to take down the errant buck.

All of the three spectator's attention was on the silver, red and gold alpha as he made his solo hunt.

Hound even made an impressed sounding rumble at the turn of speed and agility.

When Prowl leapt and latched onto the buck, it went wild, spinning and jumping like a rodeo drone to try and throw him off.

Prowl rode it out, clawing his way onto the creatures back and throwing his own weight to topple it sideways.

When he went to clamp it's spinal column in his jaws, it threw it's helm back, shining metallic prongs catching Prowl across the side of the face before he could jerk away.

Jazz hissed in sympathy, standing on the tips of his pedes and nearly pressing his faceplate against the window to try and see if he'd been badly hurt.

Prowl certainly didn't act like he was, claws lashing out to maim the creatures leg struts, snapping cables to immobilise the limbs.

Once it couldn't get up, the stag bellowed, throwing it's head again to try and protect it's neck.

Prowl didn't even attempt to hit that point again, much to Thunderwing's shouting displeasure.

Jazz watched, fascinated, as the alpha instead hooked his claws into the armour on the buck's side, tearing it away as if it were tin foil. He then ripped open the proto-structure and plunged a paw in hard.

The buck immediately stopped moving, and Mirage made a small, somewhat undecided sound.

"He went for the laser core. Much safer with immobilised limbs. Not a lot of wolf mechs can fight the instinct to hit the cerebral fibre-optic cable to even think of going for that, let alone know exactly where to hit to get to it." the noble explained with an air of being extremely impressed.

They both made noises of surprise when Thunderwing landed next to his alpha and grasped him by the hackles, sending the wolf-mech to the ground as he crushed the sensitive extensions.

Hound made a shocked sounding whine, audial appendages laying back flat. He knew EXACTLY how painful that would be, but Prowl did not even seem to make a sound, nor did he struggle to free himself.

"That ain't right. TELL me that ain't right" Jazz murmured, sharing a glance with the noble at his side.

"No… it… well. Wolf mechs are essentially slaves, Jazz. Slave laws, as you know, are rather archaic. Technically, he can… do whatever he wants with his alpha, and is not accountable to the law."

Jazz turned a hard glare on Mirage, who raised his servos defensively.

"Don't look at me like that, I didn't MAKE the laws, and I don't agree with them, that's just… how they are."

Jazz turned back to the scene outside where Thunderwing had released Prowl, delivering a hard kick to his side before leaning down to say something that made Prowl cringe.

"Ah don't get it, he didn't do anything' wrong… he caught the buck without gettin' himself cut open too bad, why's Thunderwing even punishing him?"

"Because he didn't do what he was _told, _I assume. Even if a wolf mech knows there is a better way to do something that will cause himself less harm, if his master has given him orders, he is not supposed to use initiative. And Thundewing is big on control. He doesn't tolerate ANY kind of disobedience, least of all from his alpha." Mirage gave a frustrated huff and continued.

"The most infuriating thing is that I'm betting Prowl just became subject to his own instincts. That happens, wolf mechs can't help that, but Thunderwing does not seem to see that as an excuse." the blue and white noble curled his lip-plating in disgust.

They watched as the maddeningly smug looking Lord dragged Prowl's kill over to the others that the rest of the pack had piled together. Prowl trailed behind him, slowly but holding himself as if he had not been injured. Now he was facing them, they could see one of his optics had been damaged, a trail of optic lubricant and energon seeping from the shallow wound on his faceplate.

Hound gave a small growl, and Jazz answered with his own displeased rumble as Thunderwing gestured for them to come down and meet them on the hunting grounds.

"Ah hope we don't have to entertain this slagger for much longer, I have half a mind to drive straight back to Iacon and ask Prime why these laws still exist."


End file.
